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“She’s the Countess of Asten.”
Lord Hollings sputtered. “I beg your pardon?”
Jane grinned a little more than she probably should have at his shock. “She married her employer, although it certainly wasn’t her idea. Eric had to practically beg her, though he’ll never admit to that.”
“Eric?”
“Lord Asten. Her husband.”
Oh yes, she was enjoying Lord Hollings’s confusion very much. Now that Lord Asten’s only daughter, Eleanora, was happily married to Lord Blakeney, Mary reveled in shocking the ton with how freely she spoke about her humble beginnings. Jane couldn’t help but relish her friend’s bravery as well.
“Well, I suppose it would be very hard to deny her whiskey now that she’s a countess,” said Lord Hollings, pulling himself together admirably.
“It would’ve been hard to deny her before as well. Mary is something of a force of nature.”
“And what are you, Miss Ephram?”
The question stilled her. “I’m just Jane.”
He cocked his head to the side, as though trying to read the thoughts that flashed through her mind. “People are always more complex than they seem.”
“I’m a governess. I’m afraid I’m no more exciting than that.”
He shook his head. “The woman I met today is much more than just a governess.”
Her cheeks flushed, but it wasn’t from the spirits. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”
“You’re brave. Clever too. You bargained with me until I agreed to come with you. You got on a horse even though I can tell you’re not entirely comfortable or experienced with riding. You’re even standing in a private room with a man you don’t know.”
“That doesn’t strike you as foolhardy?” she asked, setting her glass down so he couldn’t see the trembling of her hand.
“I’d wring my sisters’ necks if I found out they’d done something similar, but no.” He moved around the table, her breath coming a little faster with every step he took, until he was just inches from her. When he stopped, he didn’t touch her. He didn’t have to. All this man needed to do was stand close and her body responded with a heady rush of desire that threatened to knock her flat.
“I think you did all of this because you’re more loyal to Lady Margaret than she deserves and you don’t want her to cast her life away on some rake,” he continued, his voice low. “And you’re facing down these things that should frighten you. I think that’s very brave indeed.”
She knew she should say something, but the words wouldn’t come. He hadn’t guessed everything, but he’d shown more understanding of her than anyone outside Mary and Elizabeth had in her entire life.
“Lord Hollings—”
A knock on the door snapped the tension in the room, and a maid bustled in carrying a tray laden with food.
“Supper’s here,” he said, shooting her a little smile before stepping away. With his back turned, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on slowing the rapid pounding of her foolishly hopeful heart.
They ate quickly, speaking only of the sort of things that a gentleman and a lady might converse about at a dinner party. It helped Jane keep her eyes from sliding over to the bed every few seconds as she wondered how the awkward question of sleeping arrangements would be settled.
Shortly after they finished their meal, the maid came back to collect the tray. The door shut behind the young girl and then there was nothing left to distract them.
Jane set her chin and said in a firm voice, “I’ll make up a bed.”
Lord Hollings’s brows knit together. “Why? It looks perfectly well made to me.”
“Another bed. So that we don’t have to—”
He stared at her. “You’re not suggesting that you sleep on the floor, are you?”
“It can hardly be less comfortable than the cots I’ve been on during this trip.”
“Cots?”
